Migraine
by Herochick007
Summary: Severus wakes up a with a migraine. Poor Severus.


****A/N: I don't own Harry Potter****

****This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry****

****Seasonal Challenge: Autumn****

****Days of the Year: 1st October - International Coffee Day: Drink: Coffee****

****Color Prompts: 5. Forest Green****

****Baking A Cake: Ice the cake -Vanilla essence - [Item] Wand****

****Ravenclaw challenge: traits – loner****

****Writing Club October****

****Showtime: 13- Life After Life - (color) Black****

****Amber's Attic: 3 - Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia: (restriction) only one character. Alt: (emotion) lonely****

****Scamander's Case: 4 - ********(character) Severus Snape****

****Amber's Attic Scream: 9 - (color) lime green****

****Autumn Fun Fair****

****Pumpkin carving: Pick a pumpkin – 5 - (restriction) no dialogue****

****Fortnightly Trick or Treat****

****Treats- Harry Potter character (we've all done it): (prompt) write for your favorite HP character****

****word count: 604****

**The migraine started like the others. When he realized he couldn't see clearly from the moment he awoke. Everything was slightly off, as if the shadows in the corners were moving. The words of his morning paper seemed to blur, the letters just smudges of black ink. If he looked really hard, squinted at the page, he could make them out. He closed his eyes trying to clear his vision. It always started with the auras. He could never see the properly, just a strange distortion out of the corners of his dark eyes. If he closed his eyes tightly though, he could see what seemed like clouds of darkness. **

**With a heavy sigh, he opened a drawer and pulled out two clear glass vials. One contained a lime green liquid, the other a white powder. He dumped the powder into the liquid, recorked the vial, and shook it vigorously. It bubbled slightly. He opened the vial again and poured the bubbly liquid down his throat. **

**With any luck, he'd caught it early enough. That was hardly ever the case though. He could count on one hand the times he had successfully prevented a migraine from getting to the next stage. Usually the auras would fade, his vision return to normal. That's when the pain would start. It was often over his right eye, a piercing pain that didn't fade even with a pain potion. The space right between his eyes would feel swollen even though it never appeared so. **

**He sank into his forest green leather chair and closed his eyes. All he could do now was wait and hope that it wouldn't happen this time, that he'd managed to prevent the pain from coming. He heard the clock striking seven. He should be at breakfast. The idea of sitting in the Great Hall, with all those lights, all that noise made his head start to throb. Thankfully the house elves were well aware of his migraines and he had put a protocol into affect over a year ago. **

** He snapped his fingers and a cup of coffee appeared on the table in front of him. He'd heard caffeine wasn't good for migraines, but then he'd read it was. No one seemed to agree one way or another. He didn't particularly care what they thought. The coffee was hot. It was relaxing at the very least. He took a sip of the bitter black liquid and opened his eyes. **

**A quick glance around the room told him the auras were gone now, but he could feel the pressure building between his eyes. He had done nothing to prevent the migraine. One of these days he was going to invent a new potion that did just that. For now though, all he could do was crawl back into his bed, or possibly stay in the chair, and try to sleep the damned thing off. Hopefully it wouldn't take more than a few hours this time. **

**He shuddered remembering the migraine he'd once had that lasted two whole days. With a heavy sigh, he rose ignoring that room was swaying around him slightly. He touched his wand to the heavy calendar hanging from his wall. This would alert everyone he would not be teaching today. It was a good system, one that did not require him to interact with anyone, one that he could do even on his worst days. He crawled into his bed, pulled a soft black comforter over his head, and closed his eyes hoping when he awoke his head would not feel as though someone had taken an ice pick to it. **


End file.
